Drabbly Remedies
by Ariannah360
Summary: Twelve drabbles centering around the reds, greens, and blues.


**Title ****–** Drabbly Remedies

**Summary ****–** Twelve drabbles centering around the reds, greens, and blues.

**Pairing(s) ****–** Reds, Greens, Blues

**Rating ****–** T, for little itty bitty language at the end.

**Status ****–** Oneshot; Complete

**Important Notes ****–** Ages range from 17-18. Normal human features.

**Disclaimer ****–** I in no way own the Powerpuff Girls. But I really wish I did.

**REDS**

**XXX – Confusion**

She confused him. So very, very much. He listened as she tapped her pencil in a rapid motion, staring down at her paper without expression. And he noticed the way her lips formed a miniature pout and her dark auburn lashes curled over her fluorescent cerise eyes.

She was witty and, without knowing it herself, a bit sarcastic. Yet, she could also be stern and boring. But if she wasn't, then she wouldn't be Blossom. And he liked how it confused him. So very, very much.

**XXX – Trivial Options**

"Skittles or M&Ms?"

Blossom jumped in surprise and looked over at Brick with confusion. "What?"

"Just pick one. Your answer determines our whole relationship."

"Then Skittles."

"_I love you_."

**XXX – Musical Orientation **

Brick never knew what kind of songs Blossom listened to. Whenever he heard her name, all he could picture was classical music. He shuddered with disgust at the thought of having to listen to that godforsaken _Beethoven_ crap. He didn't like it. He warned her never to touch the radio in his car because of his fear that she had such terrible taste. Until one day, she defied him.

"Oh, I love this song!" she exclaimed, grinning as the music began to play. And to his surprise, a respectably good song started playing. He mentally noted to begin letting her touch the radio from now on.

**XXX – Snowy Days**

He knew she loved snow. Loved it as if it were her own family. He knew how much she adored the cold. Sometimes, they'd sit on the park bench and watch the snowflakes fall together. The icy atmosphere of winter made her cheeks and lips rosy and her dominating skin a little pale. He liked the contrast.

Brick himself liked warmth. Heat. _Fire_. But he didn't care so long as that pretty smile adorned Blossom's soft face. One particular day, a snowflake happened to fall on her mouth, and he took advantage of the situation.

"I'll melt that for you." He pressed his lips on top of hers, and for the first time the heat in her cheeks rose to an incredible temperature that liquefied the surrounding snow.

**BLUES**

**XXX – Shades of Blue**

Blue was her favorite color, he noted. She was very blatant and general about the color. And damn, did it look good on her. Hell, she was the reason he ever liked blue in the first place. He thought nothing of the color when he was born, until he saw her and how much she loved it. But he was particular about the shades she wore.

One day, it was sky blue. The next, turquoise. And then after that, it was cyan. Azure, sapphire, periwinkle…he could go on. But the shade that was held in her eyes was what he loved best. He couldn't name that one. It was too pretty to be named.

**XXX – The Cute One**

Bubbles could never put her finger on it. There was something about Boomer. As a child he was adorable and cute. The way he always tried to be tough made her giggle. But now, as young adults, it was a whole different ballgame. He was downright_ gorgeous_. There was no denying it.

But, as she got to know him better, Bubbles was discovering that there's much more to Boomer than just being "the cute one."

**XXX – Tricky Sense of Humor**

"Did you know that if your hand is bigger than your face it means you have cancer?" Bubbles frowned at the blond giving her a cheeky grin.

"I'm not falling for that one again."

He put his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. I've done it too many times by now." He stared at her motionlessly for a moment. "There's a bug on your hand."

She jerked backward and snapped said limb up to her face. "Where!?"

When he shoved her palm into her face, she shrieked, "_Boomer_!"

He laughed, cupping her face and pulling her in for a kiss. "I'm sorry," he apologized, still grinning. She smiled into his lips. She inwardly berated herself for not yet being used to his tricky sense of humor, but she knew she loved it.

**XXX – Snort**

Bubbles swore to the heavens for cursing her with such a laugh. It was so _ugly_ to her. Boomer would've never had to hear it if he just wasn't so darn funny. And it wasn't even just what he said that made her laugh so hard; it was that and the way he said it.

"That's so fucking _fabulous_," he said in awe as he gaped at the vanilla mass of ice cream that was handed to him by herself. She didn't laugh at first; she smiled widely, and then the more she thought about, the more she giggled. Then she fully started laughing. And finally –

SNORT. Giggle. SNORT. Guffaw. _SNORT_. She had never been so embarrassed in her life.

"I love the way you laugh," he commented later on, giving her the most genuine smile she'd received from him that day.

Perhaps…she could learn to live with her snort.

**GREENS**

**XXX – Short Lived**

It was an accident. Buttercup had been trying to grow her hair out for the past few years. It was just up to her elbows at this point. The incident happened during a battle between her and some burglars. One of them threw a knife at her. She ducked, but her hair wasn't quite as fast as she. Next thing she knew, she was back to chin length hair. She missed her chin length hair _so very fucking much_. But she felt insecure about being short.

"I like it." Buttercup blinked and then furrowed at brow at Butch. He smirked. "Long hair isn't comfortable, remember? It looks fucking gross on you anyways." Her thoughts scattered in all directions when he ran his hands through her newly short obsidian locks and kissed her. "I love it."

**XXX – Mine**

Buttercup sighed loudly and irately. Butch was being difficult again. Most of the time _she_ was the difficult one, but their roles seemed to switch for once. He got all pissy when a guy hit on her. Big _deal_, it wasn't like they _never_ flirted with her.

She was completely laidback about the argument, until she saw some busty blonde girl running a finger down Butch's chest seductively. The chest that Buttercup and Buttercup _only_ touched.

She stomped up, gripped the girl's fake blonde tresses, and dragged her away from him without as much as a word. When she came back to meet Butch's smug face, she said possessively, "I see you near another human being with boobs and a vagina, you'll have no more balls by the next day. Got it?"

"Of course I do." He swung an arm around her, once again signifying that she was his and he was hers.

**XXX – The Pretty Ugly Plan**

He always admired the combination of her looks. Dark hair, pale skin, and flushed lips. He found her so pretty as a child. So damn pretty. It made him angry, excited, and caused the adrenaline to race through his bloodstream, ultimately resulting in his twitching problem.

He rationalized that perhaps, if he punched her face _just hard enough_, she'd get uglier. Yes. That had to be the solution. It just _had _to be. But it wasn't.

It was pitiful; he continued the beat the living snuff out of the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen to try and make her uglier. But now, grown up (physically, but not mentally), he was actually quite glad that the plan never worked.

**XXX – That Damned Kiss**

Buttercup would never, _ever_ admit that she enjoyed giving her first kiss on the cheek to Butch. Ever. Besides, no one saw her second long smile before she came in physical contact with him. Who cares if it made her heart flutter in the cheesiest way that made her feel like Bubbles?

And no one ever noticed that her kiss to Butch lasted a few milliseconds longer than her sisters' kisses, so what was there to admit if there were no witnesses? _Nada_. Buttercup didn't like kissing Butch in the slightest. She thought nothing of that damned kiss back then.

As far as anyone knew, that is.

**X~X~X**


End file.
